


And God saw that it was Good

by GlitterSkullFairy



Series: Stumbling Towards Soho Snuggling [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale likes to take it Slow, Blow Jobs, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demisexual Crowley (Good Omens), Feelings, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, I got fluff in my smut, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Spouses, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making an Effort (Good Omens), Naked Cuddling, Other, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Porn, Rubber Ducks, Sex, Sharing a Bath, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Cuddling, Snake Kink, Snogging, True Love, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Wings, romantic smut, snek!Crowley, they switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-06 15:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterSkullFairy/pseuds/GlitterSkullFairy
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley FINALLY get home to the bookshop for some snuggle time, learning and discovering just what it is the humans actually do without clothes on.They spend a whole week in bed.This is smut, but it's romantic smut.





	1. Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series, but you can read just this part if you want to. The only things that you need to know are that they both got stabbed by a Heavenly weapon, Aziraphale had to borrow some clothes as a result, and it’s in the Lucifer TV universe so the rules and the biology are slightly different. Oh, and Crowley is one of the Lilim, not a fallen angel, but he has wings because he thought Aziraphale’s looked pretty and copied them. Happy with that? Good!
> 
> In that case- Welcome to the most disgustingly romantic porn I have ever written. Possibly.
> 
> There are 7 chapters, one to be posted each day over the next week. Because I like to tease you all. Tee-hee. Although, if you’re reading this once it’s all up, it’s up to your own discretion how much you read in one go. Bear in mind it gets filthier as the week goes on. (Well, not exactly filth, because they love each other and they’re nothing dirty in that.)

The smells of the bookshop were familiar and homely. Aziraphale’s chest was fluttering, and he had almost dropped the key when he tried to put in the lock. He still wasn’t quite used to the way this new body responded, even after almost ten years. It trembled when he was nervous, and sweated when he was hot, and was altogether just a little bit more _human_ than the one he had originally been given. He was only grateful that the eleven year old boy who bestowed it on him had enough thought not to give him a fully human digestive system, because that would have been terribly inconvenient. It was bad enough that the blessed thing thought it needed oxygen. It didn’t, of course, but it kept behaving as if it did, and getting into a panic if he forgot to breathe.

Like now. When Crowley walked in behind him, shut the door quite deliberately, and ran a gentle finger all the way down his arm to touch his hand. “You do have a bed, don’t you?”

“Certainly. I mean, I don’t always use it. Sometimes I get so caught up in something, I don’t notice the time until the sunlight comes through the window.” He gave a nervous laugh, unsure why he was feeling afraid. No, not fear, exactly, but a kind of jumpy excitement. It was finally happening, after all this time. They had admitted their feelings for one another, and the only thing that remained was to just get on with actually being together. Which should have simple, really except that he’d never been that close to anyone before. The only person who had even made him consider the notion was Crowley, and the possibility of making it into a physical relationship had always been out of the question. Or it had been, up until Adam had given him this gift. The swap would never have been possible otherwise- a demon housed in an angel and an angel housed in a demon. By all rights they should have both disintegrated on the spot, mixing holiness and evil like that. Yet somehow it had worked, and they’d both survived. And Aziraphale had spent nigh on a decade getting lost in daydreams about the feel of his skin when their hands touched.

"It's all right, Angel," a soft voice whispered in his ear. So close, so very close he could feel the warmth of his exhaled breath. "There's no reason to be nervous. It's just us. Nothing's going to change, we're too old and too deeply entangled with each other for that."

"I know." His body stopped fighting him as he sighed deeply. "We're just letting our bodies catch up with where our souls have been all this time."

"That's rather poetic."

"One can't read this many books without picking up a few ideas."

"Have you really read all of them?"

"Not yet. Although I've managed to get through a lot more since our attempted executions. I keep finding myself going back to old favourites, though, instead of picking up something new."

"Is that why you're trembling? Because this is all new?"

"Everything changes. The world keeps spinning, the politics and the fashions and the technology and I just can't seem to keep up. Sometimes I just want to hide in a safe place, in the past, where I know where I am and where everyone is supposed to be." He paused. "The only thing that stays constant is you. You're my rock, Crowley."

"Show me your room." His voice had a hard edge in it, an urgency. Aziraphale led him upstairs.

"Sorry about the clutter," he said. He didn't have the time or the inclination to look after this room, there always seemed to be something more important or interesting to do. His clothes were at least kept tidily in the wardrobe, but there were odd piles of books in the corners, and almost empty mugs on the surfaces. He quickly moved around the bed, pulling the blankets straight. Crowley kicked off his boots and knelt on the mattress, crawling over to him and rumpling the bedspread.

"Don't be such a fusspot. None of that matters." He took his hand and pulled him down to sit. "I don't want to wait anymore."

"You want to kiss me now." It wasn't a question, more of a statement to convince himself that it was really happening. 

"Yes," Crowley said. He carefully removed sunglasses, folding them and placing them on in the bedside cabinet. "Is that okay?"

Aziraphale's heart lurched and his head felt dizzy. "Yes. Please."

He wasn't sure what to expect. He had seen those old movies where the hero grabs the leading lady and presses their mouths roughly together. He sometimes thought Crowley might be like that, fast and passionate, just like the way he drove, the way he did almost everything. But instead, there was a hand softly cupping his cheek, and Crowley's face moved closer, inch by wonderful, slow inch. Their eyes met, and then flicked down to pink lips, and back up again. Their foreheads touched first, leaning into one another, and that was enough to make Aziraphale's heart skip a beat. For several breaths they stayed like that, growing accustomed to the closeness, savouring it. When he looked up, Crowley's eyes had lost all pretense of humanity, taken over by deep gold and wide, black pupils. He whimpered at the sight, which made the demon smile, crinkling those eyes at the edges, and the angel wondered if his heart would stop beating altogether. Crowley tilted slightly, letting their noses touch and then slide against each other. He nuzzled, making Aziraphale smile too, and that was the moment he brought their lips together.

There were no fireworks going off in the sky, no grand orchestral parade suddenly marched through the house. Not that either would have noticed if there had been. Instead, it was the silent vastness of whole galaxies, telescoped and packed into the distance between atoms. It was everything that had passed between them over six long millenia, summarised in one succinct act of intimacy, and they were both lost in it. They held the kiss much longer than any human could have managed, just resting together, cherishing and still. 

A gentle hand cradled the back of Crowley’s head, increasing the pressure just slightly, and he let his lips move, puckering and releasing. Aziraphale grinned, and Crowley chased his smile, pressing tender kisses along the upward curve, right to the corner and slowly back again. He moved away, just a little, just far enough to trace that same corner with his thumb, to trace those sweet, holy lips with his fingertips. Aziraphale gasped at the touch, a deep shuddering breath that parted his lips. And what could he do, with temptation lingering so near, except taste it? His tongue reached forward before he knew what he was doing, licking delicately. Crowley tasted of salt, fire and, strangely, apples. His fingers moved against Aziraphale’s lips and tongue, caressing so lovingly, and he let out a soft, drawn out groan as the angel licked them again. 

Nothing could compare to this bliss. Not Mozart, nor a signed first edition, nor sushi nor crepes. He could feel the love like a tangible thing- it was coming from Crowley in surging waves, it was pouring out of himself like a waterfall, the two floods swirling and mixing together into a whirlpool that dragged them deeper and deeper. He ached when the fingers left his mouth and moved down to his chin, but then Crowley lifted his head and kissed him again. His lips were open now too, their breaths mingling. A soft, seeking tongue found his mouth and he met it eagerly. It was strange- wet and hot and delicious. They explored gradually, not because they were tentative or uncertain, but because they wanted to experience each moment, each step closer to its full potential. 

At last their mouths were pressed together fully, tongues rolling over each other and hands holding close. And yet they still sought to be closer. Crowley inched his way over until their bodies touched, but it wasn't enough. Aziraphale wrapped his arms tightly around his waist and pulled him into his lap. The demon squealed in delight- as much one can squeal with one's lips firmly pressed against another. He took Aziraphale's head in both hands and grinned so hard it was difficult to keep up the kiss. Difficult, but not impossible. With legs squeezing his waist, Aziraphale kissed him long and deep. This was home. Anywhere where Crowley was. 

The sensations only became more intense as an hour flew by, and then another. The pleasure deepened as their souls knitted together. Crowley unhooked his legs from his lover's back and leaned into him, pushing him down onto the bed. Still neither could let go. They rolled first one way, and then the other. Sometimes they would lie one atop the other, sometimes side by side. Occasionally Crowley would wriggle around so that they even ended up at right angles, and once he slithered so far that Aziraphale was kissing him upside down. He couldn't help but laugh at that. 

"Come back down here," he insisted. "I want to hold you." 

They managed to right themselves so they were lying in a more traditional configuration on the bed. Side by side, mouths locked together once more, they pressed their bodies together from head to toe. Crowley seemed to like twisting his legs around Aziraphale's so they were as tangled as could be, and the angel had no objections to that so all. He also liked the way Crowley rubbed over hands over his back, or stroked down his arm to take his hand and twine their fingers together. It was a peculiar feeling, rather like being intoxicated. Being an angel, food was always a luxury rather than a necessity. The words _hunger_ and _sated_ took on a whole new meaning as he was overcome with both states at once- satisfied to be embraced at last, and yet with an unknown kind of hunger that made his chest tight and his gut ache with yearning. There was more, he knew there was more to this than just kissing. But right now, as light joined with darkness in some ineffable way, the kissing was almost too much. It was intense, and perfect. And so they kissed. And there was evening, and there was morning, the first day.


	2. Skin

At some point, Crowley felt Aziraphale's fingers creep down his neck. They fidgeted briefly with his chain, and then found their way under the edge of his waistcoat. He didn't comment at first, just enjoying the touch, but then they pushed a little further, as if seeking more skin. The angel moved back, breaking the kiss long enough to speak. "You said something, in LA."

He pressed their lips back together for a few moments before answering. "I said a lot of things. Was there something in particular you had in mind?"

Aziraphale nipped at his bottom lip. He appeared to have become a bit bolder overnight. "Clothes. You said we could hold each other without clothes." Maybe more than a bit.

Crowley felt a surge of passion at the thought. He grasped his lower back and pulled him in tight. "Quite right. Are you ready to get naked now?"

More kissing preceded his response, a fervent expression of enthusiasm. "Yes. But… not all at once. May I undress you, my dear?"

Crowley hummed happily. "Of course." He pulled down on the zip of the borrowed hoodie. "But only if I'm allowed to undress you as well."

"We can do it together." He sat up, smiling. 

Crowley pulled the zip all the way down, noting the blush that spread across his friend's cheeks. It grew darker as he pushed the hoodie back over his shoulders and all the way off, leaving him in just a pale t-shirt. "Well, that's a new look," he teased.

"Not one I plan on continuing," he said firmly. 

"I can take you shopping if you like. Help you choose something new."

"Maybe later." He kissed Crowley softly again, making them both melt into each other for an extended moment. He didn't let go as he pushed off the demon's jacket and worked his way down the buttons of his waistcoat. It ended up on the floor with everything else. Aziraphale stopped there to run his fingers over the silky, black shirt underneath. Crowley had always been quite proud of the way it clung to his slender form. 

"Perhaps you could help me find a shirt that feels this nice," Aziraphale suggested, with an admiring look.

"I can introduce you to my tailor," he agreed absently. The caresses were rather distracting. "Tempt you to a bit of vanity and self indulgence."

"I can think of much more interesting ways for you to tempt me, you delightful fiend."

Crowley slipped his fingers under the t-shirt, finding soft flesh. He pushed up and pulled it over Aziraphale's head. His pupils widened at the sight, his eyes almost completely black.

The angel sat there, bare from the waist up, and folded his arms over his chest self-consciously. He looked wonderfully vulnerable, even with a fresh red scar, not quite fully healed, on his shoulder. There was something very alluring about the innocence in his eyes, the way they peered up questioningly even as his face tilted down. "Is this how they felt in the garden?" he asked.

"Of course not. You have no reason to be ashamed. It's not a sin to love." He wanted to hold him, to show him just how perfect it could be, but he was patient. Aziraphale needed to come to this point when he was ready for it. 

"Yes, but I mean… I've never… you know. Have you?"

"Nothing like this. What we have is a once in all of history kind of deal."

"Yes, but…" he repeated. "Have you? Of course you have. You're a demon, why wouldn't you?"

"Oh _that!_ You want to know if I've had other sexual partners."

He nodded.

"Two."

"What? In all this time? Greece? Rome? The sixties?"

"Just twice."

"I don't understand."

Crowley traced the curves of his arms, taking his hands to open them up again. "Are you asking for details?"

"Well, not a diagram. I just feel woefully underprepared. I don't want to be a disappointment to you."

"Aziraphale, you could never be that. Would it set your mind at ease if I told you the first time was terrible?"

"It was?"

"About two and a half millennia ago. There was a pretty young thing with perfect blonde curls. I thought he might help me get you out of my system. I spent the entire time wishing he was you, and he spent the entire time wishing I had a clue what I was supposed to be doing, and we both left the exchange frustrated and unsatisfied."

"Oh." He smiled rather smugly, and began to unbutton Crowley's shirt. "Tell me about the other one."

"Same objective, different tactic. I ended up in the land of endless night, where a raven haired beauty told me she could make me forget anyone."

"I take it that didn't work either."

"Evidently not. I mean, we had some fun. It was rather educational. She turned out to be a shapeshifter. But she wasn't you." He sighed as Aziraphale bared his shoulder and kissed his skin with lips that were so perfectly soft and warm, so gentle and feather light, that he thought he might just dissolve into a puddle. The shirt fluttered as it fell to the floor. "You're the only one I've ever really wanted," he admitted, powerless against the flood of emotion that tenderness evoked. 

"I feel the same. It's almost as if we were meant to be together all along." He took the chain and the thin tie, and they clattered as he placed them carefully on the bedside cabinet. 

"Don't be daft. You think any of the higher ups would set the two of us up as partners?"

"Well, we did stop the apocalypse. Maybe it was part of the Plan all along. An angel and a demon, working together to keep the balance."

Crowley froze, giving him a puzzled look, and then laughed. "Only you, Aziraphale, could discuss theology while getting naked."

"I think the idea's rather romantic," he said, smiling sweetly.

"Shut up and get me out of this vest, Angel."

"Yes Crowley."

The demon lifted his arms and Aziraphale relieved him of the unwanted layer. They both sat there, gazing at each other, enjoying the sight and the intimacy of another pair of eyes on their skin. The angel began to blush again, the soft, pale hairs on his chest looking more prominent against the flushed complexion. Crowley wanted to bury his fingers into that hair. So he did. Aziraphale copied the gesture, stroking down as far as his belly button before coming back up again. By mutual unspoken agreement they kissed again, leaning to the side to fall back down onto the bed. Their bodies pressed together as they lay, hands rubbing backs and holding tight. 

"Mmmm," Aziraphale breathed happily, speaking between kisses. "You were right about it being difficult to stop."

"I'm never stopping. Not ever. You're never leaving this room."

And so they went on, kissing, touching, holding one another like it was the greatest thing in history. Crowley's tongue explored all over his lover's upper body, tasting and smelling. He rested his head on that comfortable belly, and caressed his skin and licked his fingertips. "How's your wound?" he asked.

"I had just about forgotten it was there," he replied. "It hurts a lot less, now, and you provide an excellent distraction."

"It's a talent I have," he smiled, resuming his work on angel flesh.

Aziraphale's mouth was no less thorough in its exploration, mapping his chest and abdomen, and then turning him over and examining his shoulder blades and spine. Crowley sighed, contented, as Aziraphale came to rest on top of him, chest to back, nuzzling his neck and nibbling at his ears. He closed his eyes and relished the attention, his legs parting and his body undulating of its own accord. The weight of his Angel pressed him into the mattress; the feel of skin on skin at his back satisfied age-old urges.

"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered at last, his voice strangely breathy. 

"Yes love?"

"Something's happening. I feel strange."

Crowley stilled himself and turned his head as far as he could, concerned. "What kind of something?"

"I… Well, this," he pushed his hips deliberately against Crowley's backside. 

The demon grinned. _"That,_ my Angel, is what is known as an erection. Very useful things, erections, nothing to worry about."

"Like for procreation?"

"Yes. That's one use. Although we aren't procreating yet. At least, I hope we're not."

Aziraphale rolled his hips again, and Crowley squirmed in response. "It feels… good."

"So it should. That's part of the fun. Go on, have a play. Enjoy it."

He gave another experimental push. "It feels tight. It wants."

"Of course it does. Greedy things, erections. They hunger and they need. The more you feed them, the greater the need gets. But you don't have to listen to it. You don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to, if you're not ready."

"I just like the way it feels when you move underneath me."

"Like this?" He wiggled down every vertebra as only a serpent could. He took Aziraphale's moan as an affirmative, and kept moving, the hard length pressing at the base of his spine his reward. He kept it slow, listening for those sounds of pleasure, his own desire growing in response. This was what he had longed for, a shared unity of flesh, a meeting of mutual desire and fulfilment.

"Stop!" The command came from out of nowhere, jarring him from his state of bliss. The weight on top of him vanished as Aziraphale moved away. "It's too much."

Crowley sat up immediately to check on him. "It's okay. What's wrong?"

"I'm all right. Just a bit overwhelmed. Such intense sensations, on top of all these feelings, it's a bit more than I'm used to dealing with."

"We can slow down. Take as long as you like."

"But I've made you wait too long already."

"No. No, Angel, don't think like that. Don't do anything out of obligation. This is for both of us. I'm just happy to be here with you, whatever else may or may not happen."

"I want you. I want to do all of those things with you. But I'm out of my element. I can't just take my own pleasure like that."

"Come here." Crowley sat up against the ornate headboard, and gathered his lover into his arms. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise never to tell anyone."

"I promise."

"Way back when we first met, you were there, all beautiful and angelic and adorably confused. It was enough to get my attention. But then the rain started, and you raised your wing to cover me. It was an act of pure selflessness, and you did it without even thinking, in spite of who I was and what I'd just done. No one had ever been kind to me before. I spent a long time trying to figure out why, what your motives were, what you hoped to gain. And eventually I came to the conclusion that you were just being nice. And from that moment on, I was lost. I kept hanging around, kept hoping you'd be nice to me again. And you were, time and again. People aren't nice to demons. Demons aren't nice to each other. But kindness is just in your nature. And don't tell me its just an angel thing, because it's not, I've met Gabriel. It's just you. You've infected me with it. And I have spent sixty centuries trying to find a way back under your wing."

Aziraphale pulled back out of his arms, staring in wonder. Wordlessly, because he couldn't think of a single thing to say, he manifested his wings. He looked more gorgeous than ever, light pouring off his feathers, skin glistening with hints of sweat. "Lie down," he said when Crowley just gaped back at him. He obediently shuffled down onto his back, and Aziraphale resumed his position leaning on his chest, his wing draped over them both like a blanket. "How's that?"

"Good." The word seemed utterly insufficient, but it was all he could manage.

And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.


	3. Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your lovely feedback! I love you all!

"Aziraphale? Are you still awake?" Crowley asked from beneath his feathery blanket.

"How could I be sleeping? I don't want to miss a single minute of us by doing something as pointless as that." But in spite of his protests, his body chose that moment to break into a wide yawn. 

"Are you tired, Angel?" 

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just this body getting confused again. It keeps forgetting I'm not human."

"I like this body," he said, running his hands over the curve of his belly. "It's perfect for cuddling."

"Maybe I need to cut back on the crepes. It seems to take everything literally and it might just start expanding." His light hearted smile as he said it made Crowley laugh, so he went on. "If I'm not careful I won't fit in my trousers. I'll have to get something truly awful with an elasticated waistband. Can you imagine? Me, in tracksuit bottoms? It's worse than the hoodie."

The demon was shaking silently with mirth, and bent his face into Aziraphale's neck. "You wouldn't last two days," he gasped. "I'd only have to look at you and you'd be booking us in at some fancy restaurant."

"Not quite. I have other things I'd much rather do with you now. The only thing that's going in my mouth for the next week is you."

Crowley's laugh evolved into a growl. "Promises promises!" His fingers reached into white feathers and flexed them, carding through softness. It made his fingers tingle- for though Aziraphale’s body was made by Adam, his wings were still a physical expression of his angelic spirit. They didn’t burn as much as they should have done, though. 

Aziraphale sighed. "That's nice."

He did it again, making him shiver. "I'll make a deal with you. If we can both finish getting naked, I will sit and stroke your wings until you melt into crème brûlée."

"Mmmm. Now I know you're trying to tempt me."

"Well, that is my nature. Do we have an agreement?"

Aziraphale reached for his belt, popping the snake's head buckle open with quick, sure movements. Crowley licked a broad sweep up his neck and wiggled his hips to help get the tight trousers off, his socks getting caught in them and disappearing too. He went for Aziraphale's belt while still in boxers, unsurprised to find him in sensible, white briefs. It took him a second or two to remember how to unfasten the sock suspenders, but Aziraphale offered his foot in such a delightful fashion, he let his fingers linger on the straps a little longer. The angel was blushing delightfully again as he bared him completely. He really was blonde all over. Crowley fought the urge to take him in hand straight away, to stroke him back to hardness. _Later,_ he told himself. _Let him get comfortable with the idea first. He'll enjoy it much more when he's relaxed._

Aziraphale breathed deep to calm his treacherous heart. He wanted this, and he trusted Crowley completely. There was no reason to be nervous, and yet he felt like a nightingale was trying to escape from his chest. So he pulled him in for another kiss, another taste, and the fluttering sensation was drowned in love. He reached for the last piece of clothing and pulled it away with lips still fastened together. Crowley wiggled closer and wound his legs around and through Aziraphale's. There was nothing between them anymore, nothing to keep them apart. In the beginning, God separated the light from the darkness, but now they merged once again. Skin met skin and flesh met flesh, tasting, touching, loving. Crowley's wings erupted from his back and black feathers layered over white. They lay tangled and almost delirious with the sense of closeness.

It was some time before either of them spoke. Words were unnecessary when your eyes were locked together, earthly bodies and celestial manifestations wrapped around each other. At last Crowley remembered his promise. 

"Where are you going?" Aziraphale asked as he moved away, clutching his wrist and trying to pull him back.

"To preen your wings, my Angel. Get comfy."

He rolled onto his stomach and Crowley moved behind him, straddling his bum. "Is this okay?" he asked, and settled down when he heard a vaguely affirmative sound. Aziraphale grabbed a pillow and hugged it under his face as the demon's fingers delved in. It was nothing short of glorious. He sighed and shivered at each touch. It was deep and sensual, and left him breathless. Crowley seemed to know just exactly what he needed, how much to pull and when to be gentle. He brought every single feather into alignment with a tender caress. He combed through the down, massaging to release natural oil from his skin, and he did it all with pure, seductive intent.

"How did you get so good at this?" Aziraphale asked, several hours later, so relaxed his words were slightly slurred.

"Practice. Although it's much easier when they're on someone else's back."

Aziraphale had a mental flash of Crowley sitting in his flat, surrounded by greenery, combing his own feathers straight. "Isn't that a bit awkward?"

"Very. The only way to reach right at the back is go half snake and curl… ugh," he grimaced. "Less said about that the better. It's not exactly elegant."

_That_ picture was enough to make Aziraphale rouse from his semi-conscious state, tuck away his wings and twist out from under Crowley far enough that he was able to sit up. "Am I correct in thinking that you've never had anyone to help you?"

"The whole wings thing might not have been the best idea in retrospect. A few people got a tad suspicious when I turned up in Hell looking like an angel. Pretty much kept them under wraps after that."

"Crowley…"

"No, don't give me that look. I don't need pity. I have no regrets about anything, least of all anything that brought me closer to you.”

“I would have helped you, you know.”

“And how would that have gone? ‘Good evening, Angel, I’ve brought you some scotch and would you mind straightening my feathers by the fire?’ Not exactly my thing, is it?”

“Well, no time like the present.” He raised a hand, but the raven wing flinched back instinctively. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, fighting off a sense of rejection.

Crowley took his hand and kissed it. Suddenly their roles had reversed and he felt extremely vulnerable. "I trust you, I do, it's just that I haven't… I don't…"

"I understand," he said, with a purposeful glance down at his own body. "Honestly."

"Of course you do. Look at us. A couple of ancient, awkward virgins."

Aziraphale leaned closer and smiled suggestively. "I'll let you touch mine, if you let me touch yours."

Crowley grinned. "Are you trying to tempt me now?"

"Naturally." He lifted Crowley's chin and planted kisses all along his neck, from shoulder to just behind his earlobe. The demon hummed his approval. "Don't tell me you're resisting."

"Never. I could never resist you." He raised Aziraphale's hand to his lips and licked and sucked his fingers.

"Careful. You're going to turn me into custard again."

"It's a wonderfully easy goal to achieve."

"Lie down. Let me see to your wings."

"How come you get to go first?"

"Because I said so."

Crowley laid on his belly, spreading his wings wide. Aziraphale took up position on his lower back.

"Just sit on my sodding bum, Angel. It'll be more comfortable for both of us."

"All right then," he answered, and shuffled backwards. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to touch the right wing, near the centre, just on the surface. You'll need to fold them in a little more so I can reach. That's better." He rested his hand carefully, and watched in wonder as a ripple shot all the way through from the centre of Crowley's back to his wingtips. "How's that?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "Not unpleasant."

"Good. I'm going to press my fingers a little deeper."

Crowley nodded into the pillow. His shoulders tensed, but then relaxed as Aziraphale flexed his fingers, combing them between feathers. "Can we keep talking?"

"If you like. May I ask why?"

"Because what you're doing is making me feel things and I need a distraction."

"What kind of things?"

"Vulnerable. Nervous. Sensual. Aroused."

Aziraphale made a small noise in his throat. "When we do this in heaven- do you mind me talking about heaven? For comparison?"

"At this moment you can talk about absolutely anything, but use both hands."

The angel obliged, with long downward strokes on both wings. "In heaven, we look after each other, but it's done with meticulous efficiency. There's a certain kind of pleasure and satisfaction in it, but it's not like this. I have never once felt the way you just made me feel." Crowley only purred as he brought both hands together and combed through one wing over and over. "You're in remarkably good condition, considering."

"I put in the effort. Also, it feels nice." Sometimes he closed his eyes and pretended they were someone else's wings, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"Mazikeen said she was the expert. Didn't she ever offer to help?"

"She's Mazikeen. She doesn't do offers unless they involve skinning or disemboweling. Besides, she was the boss' favourite, I'm surprised she even remembered me."

"She must have been talking about Lucifer then. He must have needed help too, I suppose."

"Getting the ash out of those bloody great things must've been a job and a half. I wonder if they sting."

"Sting?"

"Because of the holiness. Burnt my mouth when I bit Remiel's. The Devil's not exactly holy, but his wings might still have something of heaven in them."

"Crowley, do I sting?"

"You tingle. Like a good curry."

"I'm not sure how to take that."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think it means you're any less holy."

"Linda said that celestial beings can affect their corporeal form by their sense of self. Perhaps I'm subconsciously protecting you."

"You would. Hmmmm." His hips squirmed, and it made Aziraphale feel warm. "Can you go deeper?"

He shifted his weight and dug through the underlying down until he felt skin. "Like this?"

"Hhnnnggghhhh. Yes!"

The angel felt a little bolder, and worked slowly to see if he could get the oils to release. He tried to mimic the way Crowley had touched him, with a lingering tenderness, caressing as well grooming. It was supposed to be relaxing, but the demon began to twist and roll his spine. All thoughts of conversation vanished under the rising tide of sensations. Gradually he felt his fingertips moisten, but it was slow, as if Crowley's body were resisting. "It's all right my love," he assured him. "You don't have to fight it. I'm here to look after you. I promise I won't hurt you. Let yourself go."

"You have no idea how good this feels. It's difficult to stay in control."

"You don't have to be in control. It's just me. Let go."

Crowley's back arched upwards, and Aziraphale followed an impulse and bent to kiss him, right between the shoulder blades, and down between his wings. Crowley let out a long moan, and sank back down on the bed. He stopped fighting it, and relaxed. Aziraphale worked the naturally produced oils through the feathers. It turned them iridescent, shimmering with shades of blue, purple and green.

"I say, Crowley, you are more spectacular than ever."

The demon was past words.

Aziraphale continued his work, giving meticulous attention to first one wing and then the other. It was soothing and comforting, and he felt the bond between them grow. Crowley was like jelly under his touch, and he delighted in bringing him so much pleasure. He brought his own wings out again, stroking feathers on feathers, the brightness of day on midnight hues. And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.


	4. Snake

Crowley was in a state of bliss beyond any he had managed to achieve through chemical enhancements. He melted into the sheets. Aziraphale had already got every feather perfectly straight and glistening, but he didn't stop. He did start to slow down a little, and Crowley turned his head to notice a shaft of light pierce a gap in the ornate curtains. "It's morning," he noted groggily. He glanced at his watch. "It's _Wednesday_ morning. We've been in bed for three days."

"Is that all?" Aziraphale lifted a dark wing and settled underneath it, lining his naked body up next to Crowley's, his own wings folded tidily at his back. "Feels like forever."

"You know, for the first time, forever doesn't seem like such a bad idea. I could quite happily spend eternity right here with you."

"You wouldn't get bored of me?"

"Not when you can do stuff like that with my wings. I'm looking forward to seeing what else you can do."

"To be honest, so am I. I wonder if I'll be any good at it, or if I might need some practise."

"You can practise on me any time you like, my Angel. We can practise on each other. I'm sure there's still plenty for me to learn too." He was grinning broadly. "Hang on, wasn't there supposed to be some kind of reciprocal arrangement going on here? Do I get to play with you now?"

"I suppose I did suggest something along those lines. Where would you like to start?"

"Everywhere!" he exclaimed with relish, and pulled Aziraphale in for a kiss. It was hungry and deep, and his hand ran all the way down his back, over one buttock and round to the front of his thigh. There he hesitated. "You can stop me at any time. If you think it's too much, or-"

Aziraphale caught his lips in another kiss. "Just shut up and get on with it, Crowley!"

Crowley shifted his shoulders back so he could look down between them. He ran his fingers up to his navel, and then let the back of his hand travel down a trail of soft, pale curls. He touched ever so lightly at first, barely grazing over the skin. Aziraphale inhaled and let it out slowly. He felt a rush of heat in his loins as the demon stroked him first downwards and then up. Something was definitely happening.

Crowley was only using his fingertips, simply caressing the length of him, getting him accustomed to being touched _there_. Even so, he felt the first pulse as he began to swell. He wrapped his hand around, applying a little more pressure, and felt another surge.

“Hhhnnn. I could get used to this.”

“Good?”

“Yes. It’s an unusual sensation, but I like it.”

There was another swell as Crowley worked in a steady rhythm up and down the length.

“I think that erection is coming back. Your touch is quite magical, my dear.”

“That _is_ the intention.” He kept going, enjoying the way it grew in his hand, gripping tighter as it hardened. The skin moved smoothly over the stiffness. He looked up to find Aziraphale staring into his eyes.

"I'm so glad it's you. I could never share this kind of thing with anyone else, you know that, don't you?"

"I know."

"And I'm glad you didn't wait for me. It might be selfish, but I wouldn't know what to do otherwise. We could probably have worked it out, but this is better. Oh. Hm. Much better." It was finding it more difficult to breathe. His hips moved forward, pressing into Crowley's fist.

"I'm glad too. This way I can guide you through it." He adjusted his grip, experimenting with a different hold. Aziraphale moaned contentedly, hips seeking pressure again. "It's fine if you want to move. Find what feels good, and I'll follow your pace. You can even touch yourself, if you like."

"Is that allowed?"

"As far as I'm concerned, anything that makes you happy is allowed."

He let his hand drift down, and placed it over Crowley's. "Show me."

"Trust yourself. You'll know if it feels right." He swapped, letting Aziraphale take hold of himself, with his own hand over to guide him. They moved together, still slow, savouring the new sensations.

Aziraphale lowered his eyes to watch. The sight was exquisite, as intimate as it felt. He noticed something else. "You've got one too."

"Yes. I am aware of that."

"I'd like to touch your erection, as well."

Crowley chuckled. "You can call it a cock. That's the common term. Or a knob."

"I want to touch your cock, please."

Crowley laughed again.

"I'm sorry. Is that wrong?"

"Yes, love. It's so deliciously wrong. It sounds utterly filthy and I adore you for it. But right now I think we should focus on you. I'll take my turn later."

"If that's what you think is best."

"Nanny always knows best," he teased, dropping into lilting tones. It was so incongruous the angel couldn't help but giggle, dissolving some of the tension that was building throughout his body.

"You are evil."

"I am, but you love me anyway," he answered cockily.

"That's true. I do."

"Tell me."

"I love you, Anthony Jay Crowley."

He drank it in, closing his eyes dreamily, and then kissed Aziraphale so intently that he pushed him onto his back. The angel quickly rearranged his wings, curling them forward to circle them both. Crowley lay above him, overcome with passion. He pressed their bodies together, writhing against him, and Aziraphale moved hungrily in response.

"I love you Crowley," he repeated as the demon left his mouth to kiss anywhere he could reach. "So much. You have no idea."

"I do," he answered. His passion got the better of him, and he said things that he held onto too long. "I do because I love you, I have loved you since the earth was new, and I will love you for eternity." 

They rolled against each other, rubbing with increased urgency. The words mixed with the pressure on his cock made Aziraphale tense once more, building quickly into something he didn't recognise. "Oh! What's happening?" he panted.

Crowley sensed the tightness of the body beneath him and quickly repositioned himself. "It's about to get better," he said, straddling his hips and grabbing his cock. His hand moved swiftly as he watched his lover's face. "Don't be afraid," he whispered. 

There was pushing and pulling, a pressure building up to a breaking point. Aziraphale bucked up instinctively and bit his lip, groaning. He grasped the nearest thing he could, which turned out to two handfuls of jet black feathers, and squeezed. Crowley threw his head back in wanton abandonment, his mouth open and grinning, so beautiful and wild-

Everything shifted at once. The tightness gave way to a sweet release. Shivers of intense pleasure shot through him, chased by his lover's hand, and spilled in hot white liquid over his belly.

Crowley eyed him with a smug satisfaction, and then bent to kiss him once more. It was soft and delicate, and Aziraphale whimpered. A final stroke eked out another quiver through his otherwise unresponsive body. Even his wings had collapsed back onto the bed. He tried to talk, but the only thing that came out was half a word. "Wha…?"

The demon was still grinning, and clearly understood the intended query. "That, my darling, was your first orgasm. First of many, if I have any say in the matter. I'd ask if you enjoyed it, but we both know you're a complete hedonist."

Aziraphale spent several moments just catching his breath, holding Crowley's forehead against his own. "Good Lord," he said at last. "How do humans ever get anything done?"

"I'm really not the right one to ask." Crowley gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then sat up, looking around for something to clean up the mess. He held up a hand and was about to click his fingers when Aziraphale stopped him.

“Don’t! No miracles. Not here. I don’t want to take the risk of anyone upstairs noticing.”

“Right. Or anyone downstairs for that matter.” He crawled off the bed picked up the discarded t-shirt.

Aziraphale chuckled to himself. “Well at least the world didn’t end.”

“Have you been reading obscure prophecies again?” Crowley asked, wiping his hand.

“No. I just always had this niggling anxiety that if we ever had sex, Armageddon might come early. Or late.”

“You think that was sex?” 

“Wasn’t it? It certainly felt like sex.”

He sat down beside him, carefully avoiding any feathers, and cleaned off his belly. “I suppose there are those who would say it was, and those who would say it wasn’t. There are many different kinds of sex. That was just one of them.”

“Thank you.” He took the dirty shirt and threw it at the wall. “I want to try them all. Each and every variety.”

Crowley dropped his face to the angel’s chest. “Heavens above, what have I created? I should have known. Have you got a copy of the Kama Sutra?”

“I may have to invest in one.”

"I'll steal one for you."

"Crowley!"

"I'm joking!" He looked up, smiling, and settled in Aziraphale's arms. "Almost. Not sure where your boundaries are these days."

"Nor am I. But stealing, I'm sure, is generally frowned upon. Although…"

"What?"

"I suppose that if I truly love you, I have to accept you just as you are, wickedness and all. I can't expect you to change on my account. So if you were to offer me a stolen book, then the right thing to do would be just to accept it as a sign of my unconditional affection."

"Okay, one- that's why morality is such a joke, you can make anything sound plausible if you look at it from the right angle. Two- with reasoning like that, you'd make an excellent demon. Temptation is all about making bad ideas seem reasonable."

"Well, I've had a great teacher. And I do want that book. Was there a three?"

"Three- that is the most romantic thing I've ever heard. And now of course I have to do it."

"Of course. Not from a public library though, or a small shop. Go to one of those big chain stores. They won't miss it."

"All right, you still qualify as Angel."

They snuggled closer for a while, Crowley hooking his legs over and under Aziraphale's again.

"Are you trying to curl around me again?"

"Maybe."

"You can if you like. Change, I mean."

"Angel, have you got a secret snake fetish you're not telling me about?"

"I've got a you fetish. Which, all things considered, does perhaps mean yes. But only if it's you. I like the idea of being all wrapped up in you."

"I like that idea too. I want to explore every inch of you, get the feel of you, my tongue full of your scent."

"Oh! That sounds delightful."

"Even if it gets me excited?"

"It would be hypocritical of me to object to that."

"You find the idea arousing."

"You are a master of temptation. You could make anything sound arousing."

"In that case…" His eyes stayed in the same place as the rest of his form poured itself back into an enormous serpent.

"First things first," Aziraphale said. "How's your tail?"

Crowley rolled his entire head as he couldn't move his eyes, but offered up his bandaged end regardless. "All fine. Three dayssss, much better. Look." He nudged Aziraphale's shoulder, where the mark had faded almost to nothing. "Sssame."

"Let me take the bandage off then. I'd hate for it to get in the way."

"Ohhh, I ssseeeee. You want neked sssnek."

Aziraphale unwrapped it carefully. There was still an angry red line above and below, but the wound was fully closed. He lifted the tail to his lips and kissed it softly. "There. Much better."

Crowley seemed happy with it. He nuzzled at his Angel's neck and then slid up the side of his head to get his face in his hair. His tongue flicked out. "Hmmm. Good Angel smells."

"Thank you. You feel nice too." There was still plenty of snake within reach for him to stroke and caress. He lifted his head as Crowley slithered around it, and ended up with a scaly pillow that moved constantly beneath him. He turned to see yellow eyes looking at him curiously, and then his lover moved over his shoulder and coiled all around his arm. He could barely move it.

"Like?"

He grinned. "Perfect."

Crowley's tongue zipped excitedly in and out over his belly. "Many sssscentss here. New and old. Mine and yoursssss."

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Scales slid over his arm as Crowley continued making his way downwards. It was a strange sensation, the coils stayed in place but became looser and more slender.

Crowley got a few quick sniffs of his groin and then twirled around his thigh. It was warm and strong, and he squeezed it with part affection, part lust. There were fine hairs all over his legs too, almost too blonde to see. He made way from one knee to the other, and then curled around both shins, binding them together. Aziraphale flexed his feet and wiggled his toes, and a forked tongue darted out once more, tickling his soles in a rush of pure mischief. He squirmed, but as his feet were held together by the same body that was tormenting him, there was no way to escape.

“You wicked, unholy fiend!” he cried, giggling.

“You expect lessssss?” 

“Mercy! Please!”

“Do you sssubmit?”

“Yes! You may do with me as you wish, I’m yours to command.”

Crowley lifted his head and stared at him. “That wassss easssssy.”

“It wasn’t a particularly large step, my love. I’m yours already.”

He unwound himself, nuzzled experimentally into white feathers, and drew back with a sneeze.

“Oh, my dear! I’m so sorry! Your delicate nose. Let me get those out the way.” He sat up quickly and tucked his wings away. If Crowley could have laughed, he would have. He settled instead for coiling once around both legs, and then around his waist, and finally around his shoulders. He tasted the air every step of the way. Aziraphale smelled so sweet, like sugar and old books and cinnamon. And sex. The scent of his desire was potent and tantalising. He lapped it up, with tiny kisses that made the angel smile and shiver. He wound himself first one way, then the other, mapping every inch of that body with his entire length, scales gliding over skin with a soft hissing sound of their own. When he was satisfied that he’d found all the sensitive spots- those that made him melt and those that made him groan- he squeezed a little tighter and pushed Aziraphale onto his back once more. 

He grabbed a wrist with the end of his tail and lifted it, exploring the length of his arm. There was strength there too, muscles lurking under softness. They tensed beautifully when he gave a playful nip to the bicep. Aziraphale whimpered quietly at the touch of sharp teeth. Interesting. More noises escaped as he tasted his palm and flicked his tongue over fingertips. The hums and the murmurs were almost musical.

With folds of snake draped over his belly, Aziraphale abandoned himself to sensation. When one hand had been utterly ravished by tongue, the serpent slithered across his back to the other. He could feel the muscles rippling under scales as he moved, massaging him all over. He felt as though he were being worshipped, and didn't care if that was blasphemy. His legs were next, as the light vanished from the window. First they were bound together, teeth nipping gently at his calves. The more he struggled the tighter Crowley gripped him, and it became a little game until he finally submitted. When he lay still, he was finally set free. 

But not for long. Crowley twined himself around one leg and flicked his tongue at the other, scent drawing him up the inner thigh, nibbling here and there. The smell was everywhere, making him want, rearranging his anatomy. He had been denying himself for six thousand years, and though the urge was now a hundred times stronger than ever before, he let it rest at the back of his mind. This was going to last. This journey of discovery, this anticipation, feeling so close and yet burning with unfulfilled desire- this he was going to enjoy as long as he possibly could.

And so he crawled up over Aziraphale's body again, stopping to enjoy his neck where the scents were strong, and where warm, tender hands sought him out and swept in long caresses down his spine. It was sufficiently distracting that he stayed there a while, listening while the angel told him how perfect he was, how brave and how wily, and how much he was loved. Aziraphale had read a great many books, and was very eloquent on the subject, and spoke at great length. Crowley relaxed into his embrace, the urgency abating once more. And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.


	5. Snack

With a last flick of forked tongue, Crowley shifted back to a more human form, sprawled in a mess of limbs over Aziraphale. 

The angel had been too long away from those crimson lips, and he pressed his mouth against them hungrily. His hands ran over skin- shoulder blades, back and lower. Crowley's body was still writhing and rippling like he hadn't quite adapted to the change yet. The movement and the weight of him were perfect bliss. Aziraphale wrapped his legs over his thighs and squeezed, making him groan.

"I think you've spent quite enough time seeing to me," he said. "I want to take care of you now, if you'll let me."

"Yesssss," came the breathy reply.

He rolled them over together, seeking a level of control but not entirely sure what to do with it. Crowley pushed a hard line of flesh up against him, and he realised that was the part that he needed to deal with. But Aziraphale was never one to rush into the main course without an appetiser, so he propped himself up on one elbow, and brought the demon's hand to his mouth, brushing it over his lips like that first kiss. He wanted to savour him, to enjoy the full meal. So he nibbled at fingers, and tasted his wrists, and sampled the skin all the way up his arm. He'd read about that once in a romance novel, it had seemed rather steamy at the time, but it was nothing compared to this. Over his shoulder, seeking the spots on his neck he'd already discovered that made the demon squirm- and oh how delightfully he squirmed now, with tiny moans and whimpers that made Aziraphale's heart ache.

He slowly inched lower, following the line of his collarbones, down between his ribs. He took a detour to experiment with each nipple, wondering for a moment that technically, snakes shouldn't have nipples, but then they shouldn't have legs or hair either so why was he surprised? Crowley bit his lip and groaned as Aziraphale explored the way they felt in his mouth, the different texture of the skin, the way they tightened under his tongue. Then he shifted his weight further back, and kissed all down Crowley's side, lingering on his hips, the sharpness of those bones a delicious contrast to the suppleness of his belly. He tasted the top of those long, slender thighs, but rather than continue downwards, he followed the pull of his hunger back towards the one place he had yet to touch.

Aziraphale leaned his arms on thighs that opened in invitation, caressing the creases where they joined his body, and placed the first, almost chaste kiss on the base of Crowley's cock. It lurched upwards, nearly hitting him in the face. Crowley made a strangled noise, which the angel hoped meant he was doing a good thing, and kissed it again, slightly higher, slightly more lingering. The sound that action elicited assured him he was on the right track, that he wasn't just indulging his own sense of hunger. The appetite only grew as he went on, brushing his lips up the firm length. He let his tongue come out and Crowley arched to meet it. Good then. So he let himself taste, first with tentative touches, and then with broad, sweeping strokes all over. Crowley seemed to particularly like it when his tongue lapped over the end. The responses set a fire in his chest, and Aziraphale wanted to devour him. It seemed perfectly natural just to open his mouth wide, and take him inside.

"Yes! Oh Angel, yes! Just like that."

It was the most satisfying thing he had ever had in his mouth. He moaned and his fingers squeezed flesh, and he sucked and moaned again. There were hands gripping his head, fingers running through his hair. He twirled his tongue, tasting salt, a delectable wetness leaking from the tip. He wanted more, and opened his throat to swallow as much of him as he could. It penetrated him, filled him, until his lips were pressed into auburn curls and there was nowhere left to go.

Surely this was it. This was two bodies locked together in mutual bliss, intimacy and pleasure. He was full of Crowley, and it was a feast unlike any he had ever known. Not even the banquets at King Arthur's table could compare to this. All he could do was roll his tongue to stroke him a little, and suck to keep as much contact as he could. Crowley's hips began to pulse, gently thrusting in and out of his mouth, and he remembered the feeling, the need for movement and friction. He released the pressure and backed off, making room so that his lover could slide in and out of his mouth. They were both groaning now, moving in perfect unison, finding a steady rhythm. Aziraphale pondered that he could happily stay joined together like this for at least a century, but after an unknown stretch of time, he noticed that the thrusting had become somehow more insistent, more needy.

He adjusted his position slightly, his left arm finding a way under a thigh, his right hand finding a place under his mouth and gripping. He sucked a little harder, bobbing his head in time with strokes of his fist. He felt fingers tighten in his hair, pulling and twisting. Looking up at last, he found golden eyes staring back at him, adoring him, lost in wonder and pleasure. That tight lipped grimace cracked into a smile, and Aziraphale would have smiled too, if his mouth wasn't so bloody _full_ but his eyes twinkled anyway.

"More…" Crowley pleaded.

So Aziraphale gave him more. Faster, deeper, everything moving, everything pressing. His left hand curled up onto Crowley's belly and he could feel it tighten, feel all of him tighten, resisting until the last possible moment. Then there was a second swelling, only just perceptible, and Crowley was crying out in ecstasy, and something hot and wet was spilling into his mouth. Aziraphale drank it down greedily, relishing the taste of something new, gently working his hand to make sure he got every last drop. He let go reluctantly, with a lick that made the demon shudder, and came to rest on his heels, wiping his lips.

Crowley grinned at him, spread out, replete, all beautiful lines and angles. "Glutton."

Aziraphale made his way over to rest in his arms. "You are the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

"Am I indeed? Well, that's certainly high praise from someone with such an _experienced_ palette."

"You're only teasing because you don't want me know how incredibly happy and full of love you are."

"It's a plausible argument."

"It's not working. I know you too well for that."

"Really? If that's the case why did it take you so bloody long to work out that I fancied you?"

"Because the whole idea of us is ludicrous. I mean, who could have imagined it?"

"I did. Sometimes."

"What, you mean like…" he gestured vaguely downwards.

"You're not embarrassed, surely?"

"Hmmm."

"After the way you just sucked my cock?"

"Yes, but you're talking about before."

"That makes a difference does it?"

"Obviously."

Crowley gave up and pulled him in to kiss his hair.

"I've decided I like sex a lot," the angel went on. "It's not what I thought. I used to think it was just a lot of base instincts and carnal desires. Which it is, and those are wonderful in their way, but more importantly it's about joining together with someone you care about. It's a physical expression of feelings that are too deep for words to fully convey."

"I like sex with you. I like seeing you squirm. I like that you give yourself over to debauchery without reservation."

"Can you call it debauchery when it's with someone you love this much?"

"I can. I mean, you're still my pure and perfect Angel, but the things you did with that mouth are filthy. I'll never be able to watch you eat again."

"Does that mean no more dining at the Ritz?"

"Hmmm. I'd hate to deprive you. Maybe we'll just have to leave very quickly afterwards."

"I wonder if there's a way to combine food and sex. That could be fun."

"Would you like me covered in custard? Or something more savoury? A line of sushi all the way down here." He pointed at a few spots along his abdomen.

Aziraphale licked his lips. "Oh my."

"You're far too easily corruptible."

"Only for you. What else is there? You said there were many different kinds."

"I've seen quite a few. Not all of them. Might have to do a bit of research."

"Books! There must be something in my books." He leapt up from the bed and rushed downstairs.

"Angel, wait!" Crowley called after him. "We didn't shut the blinds," he finished quietly, but he had already disappeared through the door.

There was the sound of bare feet hurrying on the steps, a pause, and then a gentle padding as they returned. "We didn't shut the blinds," he echoed, and pulled a long coat from the wardrobe. It looked a couple of centuries old, but it covered his modesty. He looked utterly ridiculous and utterly ravishing. Crowley watched with delight as he bustled out the room, waited a few moments, and then followed him. The windows were covered by the time he got there, and he wandered through the shelves until he found Aziraphale piling books in his arms.

"Take these!" he said. Crowley took them from his hands, placed them on the small table next to him, and leaned as provocatively as he could against the stack.

"Angel."

Aziraphale turned, caught off guard by the sight that greeted him. His eyes wandered up and down. "Oh. Hello."

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for pornography. Those there are some of the saucier romance novels- I tended to skip over certain parts because I never understood the euphemisms. But I'm fairly sure that there's a couple of illustrated volumes in here somewhere. And before you ask, I didn’t buy them, they were a gift from a young lady I worked with at the embassy. Not sure what possessed her."

"Maybe she fancied you too."

"I hardly think- oh. Actually in retrospect, you might be right. Ah, here they are. Shall we take them back upstairs?"

"Yes. Good idea." He picked up the stack and sauntered upstairs, making sure Aziraphale got an excellent view of his bare arse all the way up.

They sat side by side on the bed, the ancient coat safely back in the wardrobe, and books piled around them. Crowley flicked through them casually- the romances were bog standard fare, sandy beaches and bodice rippers. He passed one to Aziraphale when he found the raunchy bit. The angel looked it over, shook his head and put it aside. He did the same with half a dozen other volumes, both those he selected for himself and those that Crowley offered him. "Well, this is no good at all," he huffed at last.

"I dunno. I quite liked masquerade one. You've probably still got the period costume in that wardrobe from the actual eighteenth century."

"Yes, but it's not what I'm looking for. These are all about women. It's hardly enlightening for us."

"Oh, so you want gay porn. Well, I would be surprised if you had anything of that kind downstairs. It wasn't widely available in the eras that most of your books come from."

"Why not?" he demanded, increasingly frustrated.

"You know exactly why not."

"Is that your side's doing or mine?'

Crowley just put an arm over his shoulders. "When we finally get around to facing the world again, I'll take you to a much more modern bookshop where you can find all sorts of reading material full of horny men. I expect next door has a few."

"It's not the same though, is it? I mean, there are all sorts of good stories, operas, novels, films, where the hero always ends up with his perfect woman. What about a story like that, except instead of a perfect woman, he finds a perfect man?"

"I thought you just wanted pornography?"

"Well, that too, but looking at all these romances makes me wonder. Where are our stories?"

"Nothing quite like us had ever happened before. We'll just have to write our own. In the meantime, there are some lovely woodcut illustrations here that you might find inspirational."

Aziraphale flicked through a few pages, trying to picture two of them in the various positions. "Would that work? I mean, with us, where do all the bits go?"

"There are ways."

"Yes, but what are they, exactly?"

"Well, you've already discovered one of them."

"I want you to tell me. Every detail. How we fit together, how it feels, what we're supposed to do. So I can do it with you."

"You're asking me to take away your innocence."

"No. Just my ignorance. And then, when I know what's involved, then, you can thoroughly deflower me in any way you see fit."

So Crowley told him everything. He described the way their bodies were designed to fit together for mutual pleasure, the ways that he'd tried it himself, how it had gone wrong and then right. He explained how different people like different things, and talked about some of the things he'd witnessed in Greece and Rome and Paris, and those special parties in the sixties. He was a demon after all, so certain things were expected, but there had only been one person for whom it seemed to be worth making the effort.

"That shapeshifter woman?"

"No, you idiot, I mean you."

"Oh."

Aziraphale carefully gathered up all the remaining books, and laid them on the floor. Then he took his demon in his arms again. And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.


	6. Together

Kissing Aziraphale was better than being back in Eden. It really had been paradise, especially for a serpent. Such a shame that it had to end, but Crowley knew, in his gut, that it had been inevitable. Then again, if it hadn't ended, he might never have had reason to speak to the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. He would never have found that second paradise beneath a heavenly wing. And, in spite of everything, he was more than pleased with how it all turned out.

He'd always been drawn to him. He had seen how Adam and Eve had held each other, how they looked at each other. He wanted Aziraphale to look at him like that. Sometimes, he got a glimpse of it, when he did something he shouldn't- usually something to help the angel out, or indulge his appetites- but then the blue eyes would quickly dart away, and the moment would shatter.

Now it was all different. Now Aziraphale looked at him with adoration, and affection, and he was drowning in it. It was a feeling unlike anything he had experienced, and yet it had been there all along. Just as a seed grows into a beautiful flower, just as an acorn grows into an oak, their bond had become stronger and stronger.

Crowley planted kisses all over Aziraphale's face, until the angel giggled and wrinkled his nose in delight.

"You're perfect. Absolutely, adorably, ineffably perfect." The sentiment made Aziraphale blush, and Crowley just leaned on a fist to gaze at him. Aziraphale smiled in a way that made his heart melt, and lazily traced patterns over his chest. Crowley thought they felt suspiciously like snakes, the way they curved and spiraled. 

He leaned in for a kiss as the fingers gradually moved lower and lower, moaning with a surge of want as they reached below his navel. "Still hungry?" he asked, holding him tighter.

"Never underestimate the power of my appetites, my dear. I have to make up for an awful lot of lost time."

"I think you're catching up remarkably well. Hmmm." He sighed as Aziraphale took him in hand, stroking him in a leisurely fashion.

"I want to try what we talked about. I liked the feel of you in my mouth, and I want to have you in my arse next."

Crowley's "oh" turned into part chuckle, part groan. Hearing those words in that polite voice, as if he were suggesting a cup of hot cocoa, was too much. It was both incongruous and deeply erotic. "Angel, you're killing me."

"Please don't discorporate just yet. I have too many plans for you."

"Do those plans involve bringing us both to the peak of ecstasy again and again, because if so, I'm all in."

"That's part of it, yes."

His cock swiftly grew hard and needy. "What's the other part?"

"Just holding you and never ever letting go."

"I like that part too."

They kissed again, long and lingering. Crowley reached down to cup Aziraphale, finding him fully erect already. "Oh my Angel!" They caressed each other with increasing urgency, writhing closer, wanting more. "You really want me to bugger you?"

"I want you to make love to me," he answered, breathless.

Another groan, more fervent kissing.

"Oh! I just remembered. Mazikeen gave me something." Aziraphale leaned off the edge of the bed and rummaged around. He came back with the hoodie and pulled several small sachets out of the pocket. "I have a better idea what they're used for, now that you've explained things."

Crowley peered at the writing. "The humans make this stuff and sell it in tiny packages?"

"They sell in bottles too, but she didn't have an unopened one and apparently it's bad form to offer one that's already been used."

"I'm sure I don't want to think about that too closely at the moment," he mused.

"I'll just leave them here so they're handy when we need them." Aziraphale went to take the last packet from Crowley's hand, but the demon moved it away. He tore off the corner and squeezed a little out, rolling in around his fingertips. 

"Huh." He looked from his hand to his Angel, and a smile slowly spread across his face. "Oh, this is going to be fun!" He left the rest on the pillow and pushed Aziraphale onto his back, where he kissed and caressed him until he was positively squirming. Then he picked up the lube, parted his legs, and tenderly spread it where it was needed. The angel closed his eyes and sighed dreamily. Crowley emptied the rest of the sachet into his own cock, and rubbed it all over with a prolonged moan. "By Hell, that does feel good."

"Crowley."

"Yes, love."

"I feel like I should say something to mark the occasion, but I find myself at a loss for words."

Crowley stroked his face gently and kissed him. "I love you, Aziraphale. Will that do?"

"Yes. That will do very nicely." He lifted his legs, parting them still further and offering himself openly.

Crowley felt all his insides wrench with too many emotions to name, and got into position. "Are you sure? This isn't too fast?"

"I love you Crowley. I want you inside me. Now." He felt the pressure of the tip against his entrance, and it made his heart rejoice. There was a stretching, slightly uncomfortable, but only because it was so unfamiliar, and then he was being slowly filled. It was so perfect he thought he might weep.

Crowley watched his face, going as carefully as he could. He still remembered the human yelling in pain when he'd gone in too quickly the first time. Not that an angel could be hurt like a human, but still it made him hesitant. "Is it all right?" he asked, longing for more but afraid to push. Aziraphale nodded silently, and then made a series of incoherent noises as he grasped Crowley's arse with both hands and pulled him deeper. He was hot and tight and welcoming, and it took all of Crowley's restraint not to come right there and then. He planted his palms either side of his lover’s chest and rested, motionless except for his deep breathing. With Aziraphale’s feet stroking the backs of his thighs in encouragement, he gradually began to move. Then he noticed the tears, and he froze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m as close to you as I can possibly be, and it’s wonderful, and perfect, and I’m a silly old sentimental sap.” He pushed the heel of on hand into his eyes to try and stop them leaking.

“You’re perfect,” he repeated, and bent down to kiss him. “You’re my perfect Angel.” 

They alternated between pressing their lips together and staring intently into each other’s eyes, Crowley undulating, rocking in and out, pressure building with every stroke. As he began to move faster, Aziraphale grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him in to kiss him until his body was fighting for oxygen he didn’t even need. Every sensation felt ten times stronger, each touch of skin electric, the heat of Crowley’s tongue like fire, and the fullness inside him stirring feelings he had no words for. The air was growing thick and heavy; he could feel Crowley’s love all around and inside him, like a layer of warm darkness, and he let it in, took in into his heart and nourished it with his light. Somehow the demon felt him do it. He groaned deeply, his body moving faster, desperately, as if trying to merge them into one essence. “My Angel… I can’t hold… on much longer.”

“Take me, then,” he whispered back. “Claim me with your darkness. Let go and let me carry you to the edge of heaven.” 

That voice, that soft voice speaking so tenderly was his undoing. He thrust wildly, pressing his mouth to Aziraphale’s, plunging his tongue inside, and then broke away, short, sharp moans falling his lips as he neared the brink. He pushed deep and held it there as euphoria washed over him, held by the only person who ever truly mattered. “Zira!” he called, as pulse after pulse of his climax poured out, a release of six thousand years of waiting.

When it finally abated, it left him weak, and he fell onto Aziraphale, trembling.

“Oh my love,” the angel whispered. “I’ve got you. My dear, precious demon.” He kept praising him, in between small kisses pressed on his shoulders and neck, while hands stroked his back and combed through his hair. 

Crowley was so absolutely wrecked that all he could do was sob, and an angel kissed the tears from his golden eyes and told him everything was going to be just fine and held him until the storm of emotion passed.

“There there. All better?”

Crowley scoffed. “You’re a blessed miracle, you know that.”

“You’re just saying that because of the fantastic sex.”

“No. ‘Strue. And not just because you’re a cock-sucking, shagging genius, but because you made me feel real love. 'M not good at that stuff. Not made for it."

"I felt it though. Your love. It was rich and dark and full of eternity."

"Sounds like high quality chocolate."

"Mmmm. Now you're making me peckish."

"I would give you something to munch on, but I think it might need time to recover." He shifted slightly. "I have a feeling it's about to get messy. Are you sure about the no miracles thing?"

"Better not. Just in case. Anyway, I don't mind the mess. Pass me that evil cardigan and we might be able to save the sheets."

"It does look fairly absorbent. Bottoms up." He lightly tapped Aziraphale's perfectly rounded bottom and withdrew, tucking the despised item underneath before settling back down on his most comfortable belly. "I'm sorry I couldn't last longer," he said.

"No need to apologise, my dear, the whole experience was… well, even the word extraordinary doesn't cover it."

"But you didn't get to come."

"Was I supposed to?"

"Yes."

"I may need more practise. It all felt very good though. I don't think you should have any concerns on that front."

Crowley narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are you just trying to make me feel better?"

"Crowley, I have just had the most intimate experience of my long existence, and I've had it with you, and nothing in this world or the one above could make me happier."

"You really believe that."

"Of course I do. It's the absolute truth."

"Then I _definitely_ need to try harder." He grinned and started kissing down his torso.

"Crowley?"

"Now I'm getting peckish." He flicked his tongue out teasingly, and Aziraphale noted that it was now forked.

He was still hard. His soul had been sated, but his body left wanting. He had chosen to ignore the need in favour of a tender moment, but as he felt Crowley's breath over the top of his thighs, the need returned with a vengeance. The forked tongue darted out and flicked over his cock, leaving it wet. Cool breath blew over him, and he sighed achingly. "Crowley!"

"Jussst enjoy it, love," Crowley instructed, and then got very busy with his tongue. It was long, and fully prehensile, and he used it to play with Aziraphale's cock with great relish. He found he could lick the entire length at once, or curl all around it. Quick flicks over the tip made the angel's breath catch, and if he wiggled just under the head, his moans rose in pitch. The half-way transformation was strange, because Crowley found he could both taste and smell at the same time. Aziraphale was flooding all his senses at once, and it was powerful and delicious. He opened wide and took him in, beginning just by sucking the end and twirling his tongue all over it.

Aziraphale clutched at the bedspread, suddenly enveloped in warm, wet heat. His body moved involuntarily, muscles stretching and aching. He didn't fight it, he was barely aware of anything except for the way Crowley's mouth was locked around him. He throbbed, longing to go deeper, but the wretched fiend seemed to be enjoying tormenting him far too much. Crowley's hair was just about long enough for him to grab two fistfuls of it, and he rocked his hips up.

The demon reacted quickly, extending his transformation down his throat to accommodate the sudden intrusion, taking him all the way in. The angel made such sweet noises as he worked his muscles as if to swallow him whole. Once he was all the way in, he seemed to relax a little, moving very slowly in and out. Not that Crowley had any objections to the pace, he just watched his face, learning his expressions, working both tongue and throat gently and finding great satisfaction in reducing Aziraphale to a quivering mess.

It took a long time. After all the waiting, just being united with Crowley was too much bliss for him to want anything but to melt together. The urgency he'd felt before, when Crowley had worked him until he spilled over, seemed far away now. There was an intensity to the pleasure, but he felt like it could go on forever. It was by the tiniest degrees that he began to move faster, building up to a steady pulse, dropping back into long, deep strokes and then pulsing again. He gradually found himself gripping a bit more tightly, the pulse hitting the top of its movement a little more sharply. Eventually he was just thrusting and the tension came back, demanding satisfaction. 

Crowley was getting his face well and truly fucked and he was loving it. He made his tongue ripple all along the bottom of Aziraphale's cock, sucking and waiting for the moment.

Aziraphale was gasping, desperately trying to avoid swearing or cursing or inadvertently calling on any deities. So instead he called his lover's name, over and over, becoming more inarticulate until all that was left was the "oh, oh!" Then the orgasm got him, and he wailed.

He was too far down the demon's throat for him to taste it, but he felt the way it throbbed on his tongue as his Angel spent himself. It was strong, and it wasn't over quickly. He stayed exactly where he was until the tight fingers on his skull relaxed, until he felt the pressure in his throat ease up as Aziraphale softened, and only then did he carefully move away, licking the last traces of cum from the tip. It was as sweet as honey.

"Ungh…" Aziraphale muttered, and looked down at Crowley, making grabby hands. He smiled and crawled back up the bed and into his arms, resting his head on his shoulder.

They lay like that for hours, neither speaking. There was no need. All they wanted was to be close, to hold each other, to enjoy the highs their own bodies had created, and slowly sink back down to earth as one. 

It was Aziraphale who broke the silence at last. He gently lifted Crowley's chin, looked at him with pupils blown wide, and uttered a single word. "More…"

Crowley shifted his weight over him, pressing their bodies together as their lips touched and felt the waves of desire crash over him again. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough, and he didn't want it to be. He wanted this pleasure time and again; he wanted to share it everyday, all day, until the end of the world.

They kissed and they rolled, they touched and tasted, knowing each other better now and making use of that knowledge. Aziraphale's palm received special attention, as did that spot behind Crowley's ear, and the one on his collarbone. Narrow fingers dug into the angel's thighs, and teeth nipped at his neck. The demon liked having his hair pulled.

Somewhere amongst all the tumbling, two pairs of wings broke free, and hands carded through feathers both dark and light. They were a tangle of limbs, earthly and ethereal, stroking and grinding to a chorus of moans and groans and sighs that was a music that rivaled that of the heavenly spheres.

Aziraphale straddled Crowley's thighs, and was practically glowing as he angled himself so that their cocks rubbed together. The demon spat into his hand and reached down to grasp them both at once. White wings flexed upwards and hips grew still. Blue eyes found gold and latched on. Crowley raised his other hand to the angel's face, while Aziraphale held onto the sides of his chest. He stroked them slowly at first, relishing the feel of them pressed together, the closeness of it, two hard lengths almost too much to fit in his grip. He swept his thumb over Aziraphale's tip on the upstroke, spreading the leaking wetness onto himself. He was leaking too. 

He would wait this time, he decided. He would force himself to slow down and wait for his lover, he wanted to share the climax together. So he took his time, working steadily and watching Aziraphale's face, listening to his voice. He had to pause more than once before it overtook him. The image of his naked Angel over him, the way those loving eyes seemed to stare into his soul, the feel of his desire- it was enough to make him come ten times over. But Aziraphale wasn't quite there yet, so he stilled, and breathed, and kept control. In the end he had to break eye contact, and Aziraphale looked down between them. He saw the two swollen heads trapped between the demon's fingers and it made him groan. His back arched and his wings spread wide. Crowley's upper hand slid down to his chest, while the other sped up. They were getting close. Knees tightened around his hips and he bit his lip, the pain holding him back by the smallest thread. Nails scraped down his ribs and he shuddered but held on. He hovered right on the brink until Aziraphale looked him in the eyes once more.

"Crowley!" he breathed, and his mouth opened wide, his brows knitted together and his wings shot up and Crowley knew this was it. They let go together, Aziraphale spilling out a bare second before Crowley. It was more than a miracle, it was unity at the height of physical pleasure. It was love and longing turned into tangible, mutual fulfilment. Their passion mingled in the air before falling back down, soaking hand and cocks and belly. Aziraphale collapsed forward into the mess and kissed Crowley with all his heart. Then they both lay there, panting, until the laughter claimed them both. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.


	7. Ducks

As the sun came up around them, it became obvious that they would either need to risk a miracle or do things the human way and hop in the bath. Aziraphale suggested it with more than a hint of mirth at the idea. "It's not like I haven't seen you in the bath before," he chuckled. "But I do promise this one will be common water, and I can even offer a rubber duck."

Crowley smiled and followed him to the bathroom. Aziraphale turned on the water and poured in a generous portion of his favourite bath salts.

"How often do you actually bathe?" Crowley asked curiously, when he saw how well stocked the room was.

"More often than I used to. I've discovered it's actually quite a lot of fun."

"You've got a loofah. Why on earth would you need a loofah?"

"I don't _need_ any of it, but it feels nice. Surely you've indulged yourself."

"It's never been quite the same since Rome. They knew how to do a bath. Not these cramped little things."

"You didn't seem to mind being squashed up with me earlier."

"I've endured worse torments." He said it lightly, but Aziraphale paused. 

"How bad was it? Going back?"

"It had its moments. Seeing Hastur strung up by his heels ranks very highly in my favourite memories." He shrugged. "It was home. I couldn't stay away forever. But I knew I didn't belong there anymore. I didn't quite fit."

"Of course not. You belong here, with me." He heaved a heavy sigh.

"No need to sound quite so enthusiastic about it," Crowley said with sarcasm.

"I'm just wondering where I'm going to fit all your things. I'm gradually coming to the frightening conclusion that I might have to declutter."

The demon considered for a moment. "We could always take over next door. They've already got the shelves up downstairs and I could stick all my things in the flat above. All we'd need to do is throw in a few adjoining doors."

"But what about the current owners? You wouldn't-"

"I'm sure that some kind of golden opportunity that's too good to miss will just pop up miraculously on their horizon."

Aziraphale's eyes twitched left and right as he considered it. "I could get more books! There would be so much more room. We would have to redecorate, but we could have some of your lovely plants among the shelves. There could be an archway between the two halves, like a portal between realms. Oh! We could invest in some proper gay romances!"

Crowley checked the bath and turned off the taps as he went on. "Get in, Angel." Aziraphale stepped into the water, still listing volumes he'd been trying to track down, and Crowley tucked himself between his legs so they were facing each other. It was a lot less cramped than he expected. "Hang on," he looked around, and behind.

"Oh yes," Aziraphale said, catching his confusion. "I fixed it so it's bigger on the inside, don't worry about it. I usually do this with a glass of wine. We should open a bottle later to celebrate."

"Marvellous idea. To the loss of your virginity!" he sang, waving an arm in the air victoriously. 

Aziraphale splashed at him.

"Hey, I was promised a duck, where is he?"

"On the shelf above your head."

Crowley turned and looked for it without having to get up. "Are you starting a new collection?" he asked when he saw half a dozen ducks of various colours and sizes. He picked up a yellow one with a blue bowtie. "I like this one. It's you in duck form." He put on a silly posh voice. "Hello, I'm Angel Duck and I travel the world in search of books and cuisine."

"I do not talk like that."

"Shut up, I'm playing." He turned again and found a black duck hiding at the back. "Yes! Perfect." The voice he used next was that of a very camp villain. "Hello Angel! I'm Sssnek Duck. You're pretty.”

He switched back to the posh voice. "Pleased to meet you, Snake Duck.

"Nooo. Not Snake. Sssnek. You have to ssssay it properly or it doesn't ssound ssssssexy.

"Do not tempt me you foul fiend!" The yellow duck was shaking violently. Whether it was with fear or wrath was anyone's guess.

"Oh, ssssooo, you are tempted then?"

Aziraphale was quietly dying of laughter at the other end of the tub.

Sssnek Duck continued, sidling up to his new friend. "You like me because I'm a sssscoundrel. There aren't enough sssscoundrelsss in your life.

"I happen to like nice men.

"I'm not niccccce!" he hissed, and one duck pinned the other against the side of the bath. "You take that back!

"Ohhhhh!" Angel Duck's voice trembled. "Oh, Sssnek please, take me to dinner!"

Aziraphale flapped a hand at him. "Stop it! Stop it, I can't breathe!"

Crowley's voice returned to normal. "I'm going to have to have words with Adam about that, it's a bit of a design flaw."

"Oh please don't scold him, he did a fantastic job in almost everything, under difficult circumstances, and I wouldn't want to appear ungrateful."

"Good point. I wouldn't want him to take it back. You'd have to go back to borrowing Madame Tracy. Can you imagine Sargent Shadwell if I told him he had to share?"

"Don't," Aziraphale said, ripples of humour trying to escape, "you'll set me off again."

"Don't worry, that's a bit weird even for me. Pass us the soap, I'm still sticky."

"I can do better than that," the angel said. He selected a bottle of something creamy, poured it onto what looked like a ball of netting, and began to scrub Crowley's feet.

"Are you starting at the bottom and working up?"

"Yes. I tend to go the other way around on myself, but your feet were closest."

Crowley looked from the mass of bubbles to the completely unabashed, naked angel who was lathering hum up. He was still as perfectly beautiful as the first day they met. More so, because somewhere over the last few centuries he'd been gaining in strength and confidence, and there was so much more to him now than there had been. "I could get used to this. But if you keep it up, things could get messy again."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." And he winked. A proper, mischievous wink that shot right to the demon's groin, shooting him in the heart along the way.

"I'm just going to sit back here and let you get on with it then."

***

Some time later, two very clean immortal beings lay spooned under the sheets. The bedspread had been removed to await cleaning, but they were both warmly wrapped in white feathers. Crowley was almost dozing in Aziraphale's arms, more relaxed than he had been in centuries. Maybe longer. He pushed his hips back, taking a bit more of the angel's length inside him. Aziraphale hummed contentedly and kissed between his shoulders. He had suggested trying to sleep like this, wanting to be as close as possible, but so far it had been over an hour and neither of them had completely drifted off. Though both had been close at points.

"This feels lovely," Aziraphale said. "You feel so snug. Is it good for you too?"

"Hmm. You know it is. In a tortuous, wanting more kind of way. I don't know how you can keep so still. If it was me there, I'd be pounding your arse until we both saw stars."

"Which is why it's me here and not you. I could stay like this all day."

Crowley wiggled again. "Not sure I could. You get me all hot and bothered."

Aziraphale pulled back on his hips, pressing deep and holding there. He throbbed, so swollen it almost hurt, but he also cherished the intimacy, the joining, as an end in itself. But then again, it was also good to make Crowley happy. "If you want to come I could help you with that. So long as you know I'm staying right where I am."

"Hhmmnnn." For want of anywhere else to reach with kisses, he pulled Aziraphale's fingers into his mouth. His hips rocked deliciously, seeking the push and pull inside him.

"You can squirm around on my cock as much as you like. I only want to give you pleasure. Would you like me to touch you, or would you prefer to touch yourself? I don't mind either way."

Crowley took the hand from his mouth and moved it downwards, fingers leaving a cool, wet trail along the way. Aziraphale took hold of him ever so lightly, stroking with a slow, feathery touch that set him on fire. "Hhrrrrnng."

"I wonder," he went on, his voice soft and innocent in spite of the words, "if I can make you lose control just like this. Without the frenzy and the frantic speed. Just a touch and my voice, my wing over you and my cock pressed into you."

Speaking would require breath, and Crowley couldn't seem to get enough of that to put words together, so he just continued to moan.

"I love you. You're my hero. All this time and you've always been there when I needed someone. Even when I was cruel to you. You may not be nice, but you have good in you, and I know that it causes you great conflict, but you keep acting on it anyway. And I know because there's darkness in me too, and I fight it, and I indulge it, but I will always cherish it because it's a gift from you. We're part of each other now." He let his hips start to tilt, hardly moving, just enough to gently rub inside. "I know that love is difficult for you. That's one reason why I'm giving myself so freely. Because this," his hand squeezed just for a moment, "is something I know you do understand."

He paused, taking a few moments to kiss Crowley's back while he continued stroking his dripping cock.

"You, my dear Crowley, my darling Serpent, my beloved fiend, are a beautiful creature too. You're wicked and clever and stubborn and oh, so bright and creative. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to give you all the pleasures this world can offer. Whether that's making love, or dining with you, or on you, or simply holding onto you, I want to give you all of it. To make you tremble and groan and shiver under my touch. I want you to come for me. I can feel that you're close. I can feel your body wound tighter than a spring, you're ready to burst. When I say the word, it's going to happen. Even though I'm barely touching you, even though my cock in your arse is hardly moving. Not yet- just feel it, that anticipation. I like to feel the weight of your cock in my hand. That's good. That's very good, you feel wonderful. Are you ready? It's time. Come."

Crowley's whole body spasmed and lurched, helpless against the command. He groaned as he let go, spilling onto the sheets, onto the wing that covered him. "That's it, my love," Aziraphale kept encouraging him, still stroking, holding him a little tighter and prolonging the sensation. "Keep going." Another stroke, another push of hips and he groaned as a second burst erupted. "Well done. That's perfect. You can rest now. I'm still here. Close your eyes. Sleep."

He wasn't using any kind of divine influence, but Crowley felt so spent, so utterly sated that he obeyed. Aziraphale have one more gentle roll of his hips, and joined him in slumber. 

***

When Crowley awoke, it was to the feeling of a soft body pressed against his back, soft limbs all around him, and a hard length still pressed into him. He squirmed happily, reaching for his own cock and stroking it. It had grown firm again while he slept, and was begging for attention once more. Somehow, he had a suspicion his Angel wouldn't mind.

He had worked himself up to a steady rhythm when Aziraphale stirred. “Hhmmm. That’s a wonderful sight to wake up to,” he admitted, peering around his shoulder.

“Please can you fuck me now?” Crowley whined.

“I am fucking you. I’ve been fucking you while we slept.”

Crowley moaned. “Aziraphale, you should not use language like that.”

“Why not? It’s what we’re doing isn’t it? _Fucking?”_

“You’re filthy. Depraved and filthy.” His hand was picking up speed.

“You like it. You like being fucked by me. I want to give you the longest, slowest fuck there’s ever been.”

“You do know that when snakes have sex it can take all day?”

“Have you ever had snake sex?”

“She _was_ a shapeshifter.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep going into the night. I wonder how many more times you can come before I do?”

The answer to that question turned out to be eight. They averaged about once an hour between their combined efforts, and worked their way through more than half of the lube. It was going to take a miracle to clean the steadily growing stains out of the bed, but neither of them cared about the mess enough to move. They had found each other at last, and they simply couldn’t bear to let go.

By the time Crowley was nearing his ninth, Aziraphale was sinking his teeth into his shoulder in an effort to hold on. His arms were wrapped tightly around the demon’s chest, and he was screaming and bucking wildly. This time it was Crowley who was giving the encouragements, not whispering, but yelling. “Yes! Yes, Angel, that’s it! Fuck me! Fill me!” And he did, coming hard and long. So much that Crowley could feel the way he pulsed and kicked, could feel the wetness sliding and being pushed out as Aziraphale thrust and spilled again. His own orgasm was reduced to a background hum under the symphony that was going on inside and behind.

When it finally subsided, Aziraphale could barely move.

Crowley extracted himself carefully, and turned within the circle of his arms. He held his face in both hands, searching it, both of them panting. “Angel, are you all right?”

Aziraphale smiled weakly and made a happy giggling sound, leaning into Crowley chest.

“Good. We can clean up tomorrow. For now, you should sleep.” He snaked an arm under his head, holding him close, wrapping a leg over his body. The instinct was always to curl himself around him, and there was no reason to resist that urge anymore.

Aziraphale sighed, replete in a surfeit of pleasure and love.

Crowley unfolded his wings and wrapped them over Aziraphale’s, like night covering day.

***

Aziraphale woke up sweating. His own feathers were enough to keep him warm, but he had Crowley’s too. He poked at the demon’s chest. “Crowley! Crowley, love, I’m too hot.”

“I know you are, love,” he murmured sleepily.

“No, not what I meant. Wake up and move, my darling.”

Crowley stirred grudgingly and placed a hand on his chest. "You’re sweating. Are you ill?" His voice was tinged with a mild panic.

"Fine, just too many feather blankets."

"Oh! Forgive me," he said, and quickly arranged his wings behind his back. Aziraphale did the same. "Better?"

"Much."

Crowley sat, leaning on one arm and flapped gently, creating a cool breeze. 

"Thank you. That's lovely." 

He stared, transfixed by the image in front of him, and one particular wayward curl that bobbed in the moving air.

“What?” Aziraphale asked, when he saw such a delightful expression.

“I just love you.”

“I love you too.” They grinned at each other like a pair of idiots.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said earlier.”

“When I was swearing?” the angel’s grin grew cheeky. 

“Well, that too, but in this instance I was referring to something else. About my darkness, being in you, and even as I’m saying this it’s sounding more and more like a euphemism, but what the Hell. I don’t want you to embrace it. I may joke about you being damned, but I don’t want you to be anything other than you are. You’re my bright, beautiful angel, and if you went dark, if you _fell_...”

“I won’t.” He sat up and took Crowley’s hand, looking at him earnestly. “My light is eternal, just like my love for you. It's true that the darkness is in there, but it’s a counterpoint that gives me balance. It helps me make the bad decisions that need to be made, like going against Heaven to side with the World. It gives me strength, and empathy, and… and joy! Without it, I’d be blind and heartless, like Gabriel or Michael. _You_ are the yin to my yang, we are nothing without each other.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, thoughtfully. “Do you really want this to be forever? Past the end of the world, into eternity, forever?”

“You know I do.”

“I do too.” He bent one wing forward, selected a feather from the centre, and gave it a short, sharp, pull. He winced slightly as it came free. He shuffled closer to Crowley, and held the feather near his wing. “I want you to have this. As a token. A symbol of our love.”

Crowley nodded silently, and Aziraphale placed it in the corresponding position from which he’d pulled it. With a minor miracle, it took root, standing out like a star in the night sky. The demon blinked at it, flexing his wing to see how it looked. He took a breath, and then pulled out one of his own feathers. “Will you accept…” he swallowed, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Will you accept my token too?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely!” Aziraphale was grinning and weeping as Crowley put the feather in his wing, covering the space where he had pulled one out. He worked a small miracle of his own, and a demon feather found new life in an angel’s wing.

Two small, tiny miracles, that made Heaven and Hell quake in their very foundations.

Aziraphale smiled, unaware of the enormity of what he had just done, and stroked his new feather, and wiped his eyes.

Crowley cleared his throat. “You know, we could have just got rings.”

“Rings?”

“We’re moving in together, promising to love and to hold forever, and exchanging tokens. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think we just got married.”

Aziraphale beamed. “I think we did. Although we seem to have put the honeymoon before the ceremony.”

“The honeymoon’s not over yet. May I kiss the groom?”

And on the seventh day, they rested, because their work was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you have enjoyed this journey.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my INEFFABLE beta, FluffyGlitterPantsDragon, who gets better and better with everything I write. Love you, Angel!


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